


Leotards and High Heels

by Lavende



Series: The Foxhole Club [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Andreil, Beginning of The Foxhole Club serie, Comedy, Fluff, Friendship, I love these outfits, Kevin Jean and Neil are childhood best friends, M/M, Neil finds himself a home, Show Boy AU, The foxhole club, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavende/pseuds/Lavende
Summary: During his second shift, Neil drops and shatters at least three glasses. He also spills some soda on the murderous looking bartender, and thinks Andrew might wait for him after closing time to kill him in the back alley.For the first nights, Neil's thoughts are full of regrets and disappointment. He easily thinks more than once about quitting and finding something else; a job with less people in one room, less carrying drinks and less talking to people. However, amidst it all, Neil still appreciates one thing: the shows that take place once every night.(Basically, how Neil gets a job at The Foxhole Club and finds himself a home.)
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: The Foxhole Club [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714435
Comments: 11
Kudos: 201





	Leotards and High Heels

**Author's Note:**

> This is the part 2 but also the beginning of my serie "The Foxhole Club". I don't want to make it chronological since it's restricting, and I just want to write random scenes that comes to my mind. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Neil almost gives the finger to the manager of the coffee shop with whom he just had an interview when he exits, narrowly avoiding pedestrians. His jaws are clenched as he starts walking toward his apartment. He regrets not bringing his running shoes with him, the itch to run deep in his bones. 

Finding a job is just impossible. Neil is in a new city, jobless, and has a rent to pay that he won’t be able to afford if he doesn’t have a salary soon. 

Halfway there, his phone vibrates in the pocket of his jacket. He considers ignoring it, not in the mood to answer another employer, but the necessity of getting hired is enough to motivate him. Neil is surprised to note it’s actually a call from Jean, even if it’s early in the morning. It’s barely past 8, and his friend worked until 3 a.m. the previous night. 

“Are you dying?” Neil asks first as he picks up. You never know what kind of shit Jean could have put himself into. They both have a problem with that. 

_“Why would I be dying?”_ is Jean’s answer, his voice rough and tired. He most probably should be sleeping right now. _“I remembered you had an interview this morning, so I wanted to know how it went.”_

At that, Neil sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He seriously needs to stop telling Jean when he has interviews; the amount he gets back from without any (good) result is concerning. “I’ll never find anything. They just take one look at me and I can tell they decide not to take me right on the spot.” 

Jean is silent for a minute. It’s not like he doesn’t know that Neil’s butchered face, hands and arms must look scary to most people. He looks like he just got out of a mob war, which isn’t that far from the truth, and that could mean trouble for anyone hiring him. Still, it’s not like Neil can make it all disappear just because he wishes it would. 

_“You should take Kevin's offer,”_ Jean says, in a very careful way, and Neil doesn’t appreciate being treated like a time bomb. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, finally reaching his place. His fingers close around his keys as he answers, “Kevin would be way too happy about it, and that means spending way too much time with him.” It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate his childhood friend, but he can be invasive and Neil doesn’t want to owe him one. 

_“It’s better than to live on the street, mon ami,”_ Jean sagely provides. He’s always been the brightest one out of the two of them, and Neil knows he’s right, but he’s also really bad at making the right decisions. 

Once the door is unlocked, Neil pushes his way into the near empty place that is supposed to be his home. To be honest, it mostly makes him feel numb. “Listen, go to sleep, I can manage it by myself.” It’s not that Neil isn’t grateful for his friend to be worried about him, but he doesn’t like being fussed over. He hates having to ask help, so he obviously needs to manage by himself. “I’m fine, I’ll find something.”

There is another pause, and Neil is sure the other is frowning, lips tight. _“If you don’t find something soon, I’ll give Kevin your address.”_

“You’re the worst,” Neil complains, closing his eyes in annoyance. Kevin has been asking him for days to come and he still refuses to give it to him. He would be here in a minute, complaining about Neil’s new place, the mold in one of the corners and the lack of furniture. “Don’t.”

 _“Don’t make me,”_ Jean replies, before hanging up on him, most probably to go to sleep. 

Neil rolls his eyes and throws his phone on the kitchen counter as the call ends. His stomach gurgles loudly, reminding him that he didn’t eat breakfast this morning before leaving for his catastrophic interview. Without much hope, Neil opens his pantry and the fridge, not finding anything that looks edible. 

One of his hands presses against his face, trying to find something positive in his situation and not finding anything. 

Jean works in a city more than two hours away by car, and Neil doesn’t even own one. He’s now under partial FBI protection because of his father and all the shit he did before dying. And worst of all, he now lives in the same city as Kevin, which means he won’t be able to avoid him forever.

Neil can already estimate the number of times his friend will fuck up and call him Nathaniel when he isn’t supposed to. 

So, fun times ahead. 

Unable to stay between these walls, Neil changes quickly into some sweatpants and a simple long sleeved shirt. He puts his running shoes on before leaving his near empty place behind.

He’ll manage something. 

***

The front facade of The Foxhole looks sad in the daylight, the tubes forming a fox paw white and lifeless. The building is in one of the shitty parts of the city, full of bars and clubs, a place Neil never finds himself in usually. 

He looks down at his phone, fingers tight around it. His interview is in 18 minutes, and Kevin’s message said to knock on the front door when he got there. Neil isn’t sure if it’s too early, but he tries his luck and knocks anyway. 

It takes about 10 seconds for the lock to click and the door to open, revealing Kevin standing in the entrance. He’s even worse than Jean at hiding the heavy flinch when he takes a good look at Neil’s face, and it’s almost enough for Neil to turn around and leave. 

Kevin must sense it because he steps aside and grabs Neil by the elbow to bring him inside, closing behind them. “You aren’t running, Na… Neil.” It sounds weird on his friend’s tongue and he grimaces at his misstep. At least for once in his life, he seems sorry to be annoying Neil. 

“Call me that once more and you won’t see me again,” Neil says easily, even if his whole body is so tense he wouldn’t be surprised to hear his knees pop the next step he takes. He gives a pointed look at Kevin, who nods and frowns in disapproval at the same time.

“You can’t really blame me, I’ve been calling you that for years,” Kevin argues, crossing his arms on his chest. It reminds Neil once more of how tall his friend is compared to him. Nature is unfair, really. “Plus, I know where you live now.” 

At that, Neil grimaces. Jean had followed through on his threat, giving the jobless man’s address to Kevin the moment he realised Neil seriously was about to get homeless. Kevin had spent more than 30 minutes knocking on his door without him opening up, not ready to face him yet. When one of his neighbours had thrown the tall man out for disrupting their peace, Neil had finally called Kevin and they arranged the meeting. 

“Moving out is easy,” is Neil’s answer, finally looking around him. The entrance is small, with a cloakroom in the wall, and he ignores Kevin protesting in favor of walking inside the club. The main floor is covered with small round tables, made to host no more than 4 people at a time, and they all have what Neil supposes are fake candles in the middle. At the far left, a long black bar is standing, glasses suspended above it and tons of bottles of unknown alcohol covering the wall behind it. There is a stage against the wall that faces the entrance, with velvet red curtains surrounding it. Just beside it are stairs that probably lead to the second floor. 

Everything is pretty bland in the dim light, but Neil can imagine it coming to life at night. 

“You know, I’m not surprised you ended up working somewhere that stocks so much alcohol.” Neil turns around, raising an eyebrow at Kevin. He always drank so much, Neil lost counts of how many times he had to carry him with Jean. 

Kevin doesn’t have the decency to agree, looking offended. “I’m just working here because my father owns the place,” he mumbles, still obviously uncomfortable with it. Neil remembers the day Kevin came to them with a letter from his mother that revealed to him who his father was. It seemed like a good escape from his legal guardian and his nephew, but it took years for Kevin to gather the courage to find him and reveal the truth. 

As if on cue, a rough voice raises from a door near the bar. “Why are you making me wait?” A large man with flame tattoos on his arms is leaning in the doorway. “Friend reunion can take place later.” His disapproving eyes are initially on Kevin, but they soon find Neil’s face. The way he doesn’t flinch at the obvious fresh scars on his cheeks gives Neil a reason to relax slightly. Finally, an employer who’s not running away from him right from the start. 

Since Neil doesn’t move, Kevin grabs him by the shoulders and brings him in front of his father. “He’s a bit shy,” tries his friend to excuse them, but Neil scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I’m not, my name is Neil Josten, I just moved here and I really need a job.” He punctuates his practiced words with a raised hand, remembering the scolding he got from Jean for his lack of politeness, and if he usually doesn’t care, he’s a bit desperate. 

“David Wymack, I own this shithole.” And Neil feels an instant relief setting in his chest when Wymack doesn’t shy away from his butchered hand, offering him a firm handshake. “Let’s take this to my office.” He’s quick to put a hand on Kevin’s chest. “Without you.”

Neil surprises himself with his first smile after more than a month at Kevin’s betrayed expression the moment the office door starts closing in his face. 

***

Turns out this club is a bit of a refuge, from what Kevin tells him later that night, around two pizzas at his friend’s place (They couldn’t agree on one flavor, because Kevin wanted all the vegetables and Neil, pineapples and no veggies.) 

“Most of them have shitty backgrounds; abuse, neglect, name it.” Kevin adds with a disgusted look to the freshly opened box that contains Neil’s pizza. “Matt had an—”

Neil raises a hand at him, shaking his head. “Seriously dude, how often did we tell you not to tell other people’s past without their consent?” He gives him his best glare. These people are going to be his coworkers soon. It would feel weird and unfair to know more about them than they know about him. Kevin is stupid sometimes, unable to shut up, but he’s pretty sure he isn’t dumb enough to have talked about Nathaniel’s past. 

As far as he is concerned, the only past that matters to him is Jean and Kevin. Nothing else. Not his asshole of a father or his abusive mother. They are both dead anyway, buried six feet under like everything he once was.

Kevin settles by staring at his meal, sighing before eating in silence. It’s been a while since they last saw each other, but Neil finds himself relaxing in his old friend’s presence now that Kevin understood not to ask more questions. 

“You could have called me, starving yourself by pride is damn stupid,” Kevin finally scolds him after a little. 

Neil gives him an annoyed glance, shoving more cheese in his mouth. He doesn’t know if it was really pride holding him back. Even after years, he’s just so used to patching himself up that it doesn’t come naturally to him at all. Jean ended up helping him more through the years, Kevin dealing with a lot himself and mostly focused on his own problems, but allowing people inside means admitting he isn’t fine.

He’s bad at that. 

“Stop complaining, I called you,” Neil mutters, making sure to stare at his glass of orange juice instead of his old friend.

The offended noise Kevin makes might be justified when he adds, “Sure thing, I knocked at your door for 34 minutes and you didn’t answer. No,” Kevin sounds so offended, it’s actually pretty funny, “You called me when I got thrown out.”

Avoiding the point entirely, Neil finally raises his eyes to him. “You actually counted how long you spent there? Wow, you didn’t change.”

In answer, Kevin groans, shoving some more of his pizza in his mouth. When he’s done swallowing he points an accusatory finger in Neil’s direction. “I should have let you become homeless.”

Neil shrugs, not bothered by the comment at all. “Maybe, but Jean would have been disappointed in you.” He still remembers how often he ended up in competitions over everything with Kevin for Jean’s approval. It’s as if him being older, taller and usually having the good ideas put him in a position above the two others. 

“I know,” Kevin whines, clearly thinking about it. “The things I do for him.”

Neil allows himself a tiny smile that lasts a second before he hums. “You and I both, mon ami.” 

Kevin does laugh shortly at that, leaving the initial tension behind them.

***

The least they can say is that he’s clumsy. The waitress who is training him, Renee, doesn’t lose patience and gives him encouraging smiles, but Neil knows it must be annoying for her to train someone who never even served anyone in his life. 

The hardest part is to hold the trays full of drinks while avoiding being overwhelmed by the crowd and finding back the table where his clients are sitting. 

During his second shift, Neil drops and shatters at least three glasses. He also spills some soda on the murderous looking bartender, and thinks Andrew might wait for him after closing time to kill him in the back alley. 

For the first nights, Neil's thoughts are full of regrets and disappointment. He easily thinks more than once about quitting and finding something else; a job with less people in one room, less carrying drinks and less talking to people. However, amidst it all, Neil still appreciates one thing: the shows that take place once every night.

There are two choregraphies per week, one for the weekdays and one for the weekend. They are fun, and Neil appreciates how eccentric the clothes look; he feels like you can’t afford to wear these outside of such a context. There is also a bit of comedy in them sometimes, which amuses him.

But what he might like the most is how the customers all stop looking at his face and his missteps, eyes glued to the stage instead. 

For the first few weeks, Neil only works the weekdays. Wymack doesn’t want any accidents happening on the weekends. 

Which is both offending and justified on his part. On slow nights, he learns a bit more about the girls who dance Dan, Allison, Katelyn, Laila and Alvarez (he still doesn’t know her first name) and the first two seem to take an immediate liking to him. Dan is always ready to fight anyone who dares insult The Foxhole, to remind everyone that they are lucky to have such a place, while Allison mostly looks like she came off of a runway and complains about Neil’s hair. He also gets to know Matt, who usually mends the door and the cloakroom at the same time, and if his appearance is a bit imposing, he seriously just acts like a big goof. 

Most of the time, Kevin is in the kitchen helping Abby. He sometimes comes out just to insult Neil’s way of doing something and then goes back in. 

On his first weekend night, Neil feels the pressure growing in the pit of his stomach all day, holding him from sleeping. He even spammed Jean about random facts to calm his nerves, like, Did you know that the average person will spend six months of their life waiting for red lights to turn green? That’s insane. That’s why I’m not driving. 

To his surprise, it doesn’t go as bad as he thought it would. Renee is quick to cheer on him and his progress, even if he earns himself some glares from Andrew’s twin, Aaron. They never worked together since Aaron only works on weekend nights, and Neil is pretty certain they won’t get along. 

Near the beginning of tonight’s show, Renee comes to fetch him on the second floor. “Abby cooked some supper for you, come down to the bar to eat it. I asked Andrew to keep you a place.” Her smile is easy, even at Neil’s astonished expression. 

“It isn’t necessary,” he mutters, the second floor is always more silent and filled with specific patrons, and he didn’t think saying he forgot to eat before coming would create such a fuss. It makes him feel uneasy. “I’m working.”

The older woman shrugs and lightly touches his back to bring him downstairs. “It isn’t, but you won’t waste Abby’s efforts, right?” And with Renee, Neil begins to understand that trying to get away from something doesn’t work. Ever. She finds the words to make you feel selfish in the most innocent way, and it’s why Neil isn’t able to say if he likes her or not. 

He doesn’t answer as they get downstairs, and as promised, there is a stool available for him with a plate ready in front of it. When he settles to eat the creamy pasta, pushing the vegetables on the side, Andrew brings him a glass of water. “Don’t try to die on us, I could see you on the verge of fainting earlier.”

Neil grimaces at the comment, but nods. It’s true that he felt light-headed earlier and he has no excuse for it. “I thought you wanted me dead?” he still adds, teasing. It only took 5 nights for Andrew to tell Neil he hated him and that he could die in a ditch. For some obscure reasons, the threatened man ended up most comfortable with the bartender in particular. Jean did tell him his conception of comfort is messed up though. 

“I do,” is Andrew’s simple answer before he turns around to continue preparing all the drinks Neil has no idea how the blond man can remember without ever looking at the list of ingredients needed. 

The food is good, so Neil focuses on it and tries to eat fast to not let Aaron and Renee handle the floor by themselves. However, his attention is on the stage as soon as the show starts, and Neil feels unsettled when he hears a man’s voice in the mix. 

The main performer tonight is a tall man the waiter has never seen before. He’s wearing a fitted black leotard with a red corset on top, and his legs are covered with skin-colored stockings, some white pearls sewn into them. On his feet is a pair of red stilettos that clash nicely with his golden legs. The way he moves is fluid, and his eyes are full of confidence Neil wishes he owned. 

His eyes stuck on the performance, Neil forgets to munch on the bite he has in his mouth for a few minutes, swallowing it whole when he turns around to get Andrew’s attention. It’s his awkward cough that makes the bartender turn back to him, walking to him to fill his water back.

“Andrew, who is that guy?” Neil finally asks, voice rough. He points at the stage, noticing the way Andrew doesn’t even glance at it.

“Nicky. Unfortunately, he’s my cousin.” 

It’s the timing Aaron chooses to lean against the counter beside Neil, giving his orders to Andrew. “Please, tell me you aren’t getting a crush on him.” Aaron grimaces at the idea. “It will get to his head, and I don’t need more gays around me.” 

“I’m not having a crush, but what’s the problem with—” Neil doesn’t manage to finish his sentence before Aaron receives his sauce covered fork on the forehead, the utensil falling on the ground and leaving an orange splotch on Aaron's pale skin. The twin keeps still for a bit before giving a deadly glare to his brother, who still has his hand up.

“Oops, it slipped.” 

“What is your damn problem?” Aaron spits, storming off toward the bathroom to clean himself.

Neil looks at the scene with big eyes, utterly amused by Andrew’s behavior. He isn’t sure what made him react, but he thinks it might have been the homophobic comment. Unable to hold back a smile, the new waiter gets up from his stool with one last glance toward the stage and Nicky before grabbing the tray Aaron should have served. Fortunately for him, Aaron tends to write down the table numbers with the orders. 

“Say thanks to Abby for me!” Neil tells Andrew before leaving with the drinks, earning himself a small two fingers salute from the bartender.

***

“Hey Jean, how do you think they choose their performers?” Neil asks his friend on the phone while lying in bed a week later. It’s 4 in the morning, which is now a regular time for them to call each other since they both work at clubs. (Neil learned the one Jean works at is actually the joint one of The Foxhole.)

His friend insists on talking to him at least once a week, by phone or skype, worried that Neil will let himself deperish without telling anyone. It’s not like Kevin would be really good at noticing, a bit too focused on himself as always. 

There is a pause in the conversation, and Neil realises he must have interrupted something Jean was saying. He doesn’t have time to apologize before the French man answers carefully, _“Well, I would say that usually they probably pick up people that know how to dance, sing and tease the public.”_ Neil isn’t sure why the explanation bothers him, but it does. 

“Why usually only?” He deadpans, finding himself a bit dumb. 

Jean hums. _“Well, it’s The Foxhole, they don’t pick up people only for their qualities. You were a shit waiter, if I must remind you.”_ Neil rolls his eyes, but doesn’t protest. Kevin had complained about it to Jean enough. _“But because of their background, so maybe they pick up anyone willing to make the effort to become good at it.”_

The other doesn’t say it, but Neil can hear the question in the last of his words. Yet, he doesn’t answer immediately, still trying to figure out what he wants himself. Why does he feel attracted to this job, now that he saw Nicky doing it the other night? It clearly isn’t because of physical attraction toward him, because Neil never had any or almost. It just fascinated him, maybe? The confidence, the way people reacted to him. To realise not only girls could dress that way.

 _“You usually don’t like to be the center of attention,”_ Jean finally comments, when it’s clear Neil is too lost in his own head.

“I know, I don’t,” Neil concedes, playing with the blanket beside him to distract himself. “Nicky just looked like…” He huffs, annoyed. “I actually don’t know, but I like the clothes and the confidence and for a moment I wondered how it would feel.” This is the type of stuff Neil doesn’t usually say to anyone, but Jean is like a safe zone to him. 

_“Probably the same way you feel when you badmouth someone in their face, but with more glamour,”_ his friend finally teases him, and Neil gets caught in a short outburst of laughter. _“Just ask Nicky if you want to try, I guarantee you the guy would love to teach you.”_ Andrew’s cousin did some performances at their other club, and Jean had at least three stories of how he got hit on by him. 

“I probably won’t, but thanks.”

_“Whatever, just go to sleep now and don’t get into trouble.”_

“No worries, mon coeur,” Neil taunts his friend with the sweetest voice he can manage without laughing. 

_“See, that’s the attitude.”_

***

Now that Neil proved himself, Wymack finally gives him shifts on the weekends regularly, which allows him to see Nicky on stage more often. They end up talking; Nicky tends to the floor after his performances, which the customers seem to like. It took him exactly 10 minutes before trying to hit on Neil the first time, which earned him his traditional, _“I don’t swing.”_

Dan had jumped between them to scold Nicky for never stopping to flirt even if he already has a boyfriend. And Matt not so subtly had put himself between Andrew and the show boy when it became obvious his cousin was about to throw a glass at his head. Neil is unsure what caused this reaction, but he still feels warm and weird at having people taking his defense.

It’s Neil’s turn to close the doors behind the last of their patrons, and he sighs in relief when he hears the telling click of the lock. Tonight has been intense, and he is glad to know he can now clean up and leave for his bed. He goes back to the main room, helping Aaron and Renee to clean the tables while Andrew is supposed to clean the bar. However, Neil doesn’t see him behind the counter. He shrugs, deciding he must be in the kitchen with Abby and goes back to work.

A few minutes later, the performers come out from backstage to bid their goodbye to the rest of the staff before leaving, and Nicky isn’t with them. He only comes out once they are gone, still wearing his performance outfit. “Neil!” He waves at him with energy, and the waiter wonders once more how someone can still be bouncing at this time of the night. 

“Yes?” Neil is in the process of wiping a table, red liquor sticking to it. 

“Come here!” Nicky looks enthusiastic enough that Neil gives him a suspicious glance, unsure if he should get to the dancer or not. 

Aaron scoffs a few feets away. “He’s learning not to trust you, he’s less dumb than I thought.” Sometimes Neil wonders how such an asshole can have sweet Katelyn as his girlfriend.

Just for this, Neil leaves the cloth on the sticky surface and tells Aaron, “You can take care of this,” earning a contained laugh from Renee and an even bigger smile from Nicky, which he reaches quickly.

“Yeah?” Neil asks, still curious, losing his balance when Nicky grabs him and leads him into the changing room just as Andrew exits it, avoiding to look at Neil in the process. Weird, he can’t remember ever seeing the bartender back there. 

“Here!” Nicky says, and Neil’s eyes end up on an outfit he never saw before, displayed on one of the large cushioned chairs. 

He freezes when he realises it’s too small for Nicky and too large for the girls. “What is it?” Maybe he’s wrong, anyway. 

The dark-skinned man clicks his tongue and picks up the clothes to press them against Neil’s chest. “For you, obviously. A little bird told me it interested you.” Nicky’s smile finally looks a bit unsure, but he holds it in place. “Does it? Because I can totally show you some stuff, no pressure.” 

Neil stares down at the clothes he’s holding in his arms. The leotard is a velvet royal blue, and there is what looks like a black cropped jacket made of a firmer material. Beside Nicky’s feet is a pair of smaller high heels of the same blue. He’s surprised to actually want to see himself in it. “Who told you?” he asks instead, still unsure of what he should do. Jean wouldn’t have exposed him, right?

“Surprisingly enough, it’s Andrew.” Nicky shrugs at Neil’s astonishment. “Yeah, I did that face too. He even chose the clothes.” 

Neil opens his mouth and closes it again, wondering how Andrew picked up on his interest in it. His chest feels warm and fuzzy in a second, even if he’s a bit scared to have been this obvious. “Uh, my body isn’t really pretty,” Neil mumbles finally. 

Nicky looks down at him, at the scars showing a bit from the open collar of his buttoned shirt and his hands, as if it is the first time he sees them. “Scars don't make someone not pretty, and if you’re not talking about them, then you’re just blind.” The second once over is a bit more appreciative of Neil’s body and Neil feels weirdly exposed, so he presses the clothes against his chest for cover . 

“Okay, okay, fine.” He looks around for somewhere to change, and Nicky seems to pick up on it because he cheerfully guides him behind a changing screen. 

When Neil starts undressing, a feeling of unease goes down his back, but he tries to ignore it. The moment he gets to his underwear, wondering what he’s supposed to do with them, Nicky supplies helpfully, “Oh and forgo the brief.” Which definitely doesn’t make Neil feel heat crawl up his cheeks. 

The leotard isn’t as revealing as Nicky’s ones because the bottom ends in some pretty tight shorts; the top has short sleeves; and the collar and the upper part of his chest are covered in pearls and diamonds, some cute threads in white around them. Neil fights with the zipper for a full minute before he manages to bring it up and he puts on the fitted, cropped jacket. He doesn’t get how Andrew knew what size he is. 

Neil needs to take a breath or two before leaving the protection of the screen. Nicky exaggeratedly screams when he catches a glimpse of him. “You. Look. So. Good.” 

And because he’s curious, Neil turns toward the mirrors. It’s… tight. Revealing his legs in a way he never does, and showing off his crotch a tad too much, but overall, it’s … nice? He thinks? He’s especially grateful that none of his upper body scars are currently showing. 

“Alright, do you know how to walk in heels?” Nicky asks him, looking over the moon with all of this. 

Neil nods, sitting down to put the blue heels on, and easily getting back up. Another glance toward the mirror tells him it does wonder for his legs. “My mother taught me a lot of weird stuff.” 

Nicky hums, not asking why; it’s one of the great things about The Foxhole. “Now, sit,” he says as he gets to one of the makeup chairs.

“Why?” Neil asks, carefully making his way to it.

Nicky picks up some brushes and opens up one of the drawers, full of different palettes and tubes. “Don’t think I’m leaving this unfinished.” 

***

When Neil finally escapes from the changing room, he has glitter and eyeliner on. Nicky made sure to leave his scar intact, saying it added to his charm, but the rest of his face is covered with foundation. Even his hair got attacked and made into a messy style. 

He isn’t sure if he wants anyone else to see him like this, but when he gets out, Renee and Andrew are talking, leaning against the counter. They both turn to look at him at the same time, Renee nodding in approval with her usual soft smile. “Looking great, Neil.” 

“Oh, eh, thanks.” Neil admittedly is enjoying the compliment, but he can’t help but feel embarrassed dressed like this. He shifts his attention to Andrew, taken aback when he notices red covering his ears and neck. The bartender’s eyes are on him, examining him, and Neil thinks he can for once see what someone enjoying his body looks like. 

Oh. “And thanks for the clothes,” Neil tries, getting closer to them, as Andrew seems to observe the way he walks in the heels. It’s funny on his neutral face, and Neil is surprised that he doesn’t hate the reaction. Renee seems highly amused.

“Don’t mention it,” Andrews answers, finally looking away. “Looking at you drooling on Nicky’s outfit each time was getting pathetic.” 

It’s an insult. Well, supposed to be one, but Neil smiles honestly at it. 

The door to Wymack’s office suddenly opens, and the man storms out, but he quickly pauses when he gets a good look at the man in high heels. He sighs, seemingly resigned, and says, as he walks away, “You keep doing your shifts until I find someone else to tend to the tables.” 

Neil blinks in astonishment at his boss, who leaves them behind to get back to the kitchen.

It’s Renee that gets him out of his staring contest with the now closed door. “Seems like you might get a promotion soon. Interested?” she asks sweetly. 

Neil needs a minute to think about it—remembers Nicky offering to teach him—his lips in a thin line. But finally he nods, Andrew's reaction saved to his memory. “Yeah, might be.”

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, there will be more interactions between Neil and Andrew in my next parts! I already have some ideas (and another part is written). If there is anything you would like to see, don't hesitate to comment it down below.
> 
> Thank you for reading and remember that a kudos or a comment can make someone's day!
> 
> Tumblr : [Lav-ende](https://lav-ende.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter : [Lav_ende](https://twitter.com/lav_ende)


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